#blood hunters in eberron

[wra1thguards]

my beloved dnd character… level 16 blood hunter. what a concept

[janisjoy]

Posting some new babies! Or like. Party members. In order: Key (she/her, the-oh-so-tired harpy), Kasavir (he/him, normalhumanman) and Burke (he/him, bling bling warforged).

New and fresh campaign run by our lord and savior: Ben <3

[captainkingsley]

Bor'dor has got to be a shifter. He was pointedly described with larger than usual eyes, which, if we look at the Shifter race info, it notes they have unusually large eyes, pointed ears, and good hearing. Could totally pass as a half-elf.

We'll have to wait to see if he shifts accidentally!

To be honest I'll be delighted if Shifters are brought into Exandria — we got two other Eberron races already, so just throw another in.

Plus it'll be another good way to bring lycanthropy into the mix, even if Shifters are watered down from full-blooded lycans. Blood hunters are cool with their lycanthropy, but having other options is always more fun.

[eberronm]

Not our usual Eberron M or Smal Tal Gang, but I did have the honor of running a 5-part zombie apocalypse-themed homebrew world dubbed "Medrow." (Originally planned to be a 3-shot, but player shenanigans so, oh well...)

This has been a highlight of my DnD career. If you are a player, I 100% recommend you to try your hand at DMing at least once if you ever get the opportunity. You won't regret it.

@plinchy Thanks for playing!!

The party from left to right:

Aerith, elf Druid

Thankred Summers, human Rogue-Paladin

Millie (DM's npc), gnome sidekick/apothecary

Tamisra, elf Blood Hunter

Cynthia, centaur Fighter (plinchy)

This isn't goodbye... just a "See you later!"

[fimsilvante]

This or That ─ Dungeons & Dragons

homebrew or published content | barbarian or wizard | charisma or wisdom | armor or potion | wish or true resurrection | world building or character development | melee weapon or ranged weapon | artificer or blood hunter | spell or cursed item | monk or bard | strength or intelligence | eberron or wildemount | school of enchantment or school of necromancy | construct or elemental | toll the dead or thunderclap | dexterity or constitution | simple weapon or martial weapon | acolyte or charlatan | charm person or command | school of illusion or school of divination | chill touch or mage hand | school of evocation or school of transmutation | vicious mockery or eldritch blast | black dragon or white dragon | power word kill or power word heal | hermit or noble | celestial or fey | slashing damage or piercing damage | dagger or mace

@ anyone who wants to play and @sunshinehigh @liliran @fantasy-hill

[artiquar]

Scribbling down some Eberron au ideas

Molly's still a blood hunter! He's Risian tiefling, though, to compliment his blood hunter abilities. Eventually he'll take levels in cleric to combat Lucien's whole deal in this au. He was picked up by the Silver Flame, who recognized him from Lucien's past involvement with them, and they thought it was safer to re-train him than let him wander aimlessly.

Caleb's a wizard / artificer — battle smith specifically because steel defender Frumpkin. He got into artificery after dropping out of Arcanix. ( Not the actual floating towers, he just left the school. ) He spent a lot of time in the Cogs of Sharn, lots of learning opportunity there for less-than-lawful artificers.

Jester I'm still juggling cleric or warlock for class, but whatever the case is, she's a Thelanis planetouched tiefling, giving her more fae qualities. Her skirt is glamerweave straight from Thelanis and it looks like it's constantly being written and erased. And drawn on. And if she draws on it, the messages and drawings get delivered to Artagan.

[wearebloodhunter]

Blood Hunters in Eberron: The Setting

Surprise! It’s here early!

I’ve never played a game set in Eberron, as I’ve only ever played 5E and outside of an Unearthed Arcana article there hasn’t been any material for that setting in this edition. That said, I really want to, especially now that Wayfinder’s Guide is out. 

So, this is actually going to be a two-parter. This post will deal with blood hunters within Khorvaire, the main continent on Eberron. In particular, I’ll talk about the Five Nations and that sort of thing. Part Two will deal with blood hunters and the races unique to Eberron. Without further ado, then...

Aundair: Blood hunters in Aundair are likely outcasts from society. I don’t mean that the people of Aundair necessarily look down on the blood magic that these warriors use. I mean, Aundair is a place of sophistication, a place where I would expect someone to turn people against me rather than where someone would just try to take my head off with an axe. Blood hunters are people who have to deal with the ugly parts of living in a magical world, and I sense that the people of Aundair would rather avoid such things. Blood hunters are thus necessary, but not exactly appreciated.

A blood hunter from Aundair will likely have some sort of magical ability, even if they’re not multiclassed and aren’t Order of the Profane Soul. They’ll also likely use a lot of magical items and weapons with the Finesse property; I could definitely see a lot of blood hunters from Aundair dual-wielding a rapier and a dagger.

Breland: Blood hunters in Breland may still be outcasts, but the Brelish will recognize that blood hunters get the job done. For a pragmatic people, that likely counts for a lot. Unfortunately, a blood hunter in Breland will likely spend a lot of time navigating the subterfuge and intrigue of the metropolis Sharn, where fey and fiends can wreak havoc by playing on emotions and guiding the actions of mortals. 

A blood hunter from Breland is likely Chaotic in alignment, reflecting the Brelish value for independence. They’ll also probably be practical as heck. Grab the best weapons and armor you can, whatever they may be, and get to work.

Cyrans: Cyre was destroyed in the Last War, and the Cyrans are now refugees in various other realms. Cyre is now the Mournland, a place full of ruins...which means monsters and treasure.

A Cyran blood hunter is familiar with loss; nobody survived the Last War without losing something. You also likely are very driven, with a specific goal relating to Cyre, your countrymen, or the Mourning.

Darguun: If you’re from Darguun, you’re likely a goblinoid, because that’s most of who lives there.

I don’t imagine a lot of blood hunters come from Darguun, but then again even goblinoids need to kill monsters. I’d recommend working with your DM to figure out your tribe and some more goblinoid culture so you have a better idea of how a blood hunter might fit into that.

The Demon Wastes: The Demon Wastes are, fittingly, plagued by fiends. This is an excellent place for blood hunters to come from. The Ghaash’kala orc tribes are sworn to contain the evils of the Demon Wastes, so that’s very fitting. A blood hunter from the Carrion Tribes is likely from the Order of the Profane Soul and has a Fiend patron, which opens a lot of RP opportunities.

Droaam: Just about everyone who lives in the rough lands of Droaam is a “monstrous” race, though that’s not something I would call a fair description. For certain, any Droaamite would be an outsider elsewhere in Khorvaire, and as it’s been generally established, blood hunters are outsiders.

Playing a Droaamite sounds really fun, just because it would mean getting to do something totally outside of the norm.

The Eldeen Reaches: If there’s somewhere other than the Demon Wastes that needs blood hunters, it’s probably the Eldeen Reaches. The area has plenty of fey influence, but there’s also several factions blood hunters would fit into. The Gatekeepers are probably the best fit, protecting nature from aberrations and fiends, but if you want to play the Ultimate Goth D&D Character, the Children of Winter are also an interesting choice.

Karrnath: If you’re a Karrn blood hunter, you are once again an outsider. Karrnath is full of undead raised by official necromancers, so Order of the Ghostslayer blood hunters might actually be rebels, objecting to this use of necromancy. You might also want to hunt the Nightwood and stop monsters and undead from reaching other regions. Regardless, you probably were a soldier before becoming a blood hunter.

This isn’t nearly all of the regions in Khorvaire, so this Part One is probably getting extended to a Part One-and-a-Half!

[oathkeeper-of-tarth]

The Four Long Rests Of Ramiel

This is a cleaned up and expanded version of a piece I wrote quite a while ago, because if I don’t write and edit something that isn’t a work email or academic text I am going to quite literally die.

Anyway, this is some more Blorbos From My DnD Homegame and I’m not expecting anyone but me to be really invested in this, but they’ve been on here before and I’ve done my best to hopefully make this all not too obscure and unintelligible to an outside observer. Any thoughts and comments will, as always, be appreciated to bits and put in that collection I keep to gaze upon on bad days (yes, it’s an actual thing I have).

Commemorating how a little over a year ago in our Curse of Strahd campaign my character got caught by the land’s vampire lord while trying to heist an ancient dragon skull from his spooky castle in order to bring back a fallen order of noble knights (long story), stubbornly refused to give up the whereabouts of a legendary vampire hunter upon capture, and was subsequently brutally murdered despite her friends’ and dashing love interest’s very impressive efforts to save her. It was very peak DnD dramatic and great and the aftermath was wild, and then I wrote some of it up while processing it all and shared it with my fellow players and DM, the absolute champs.

The original comically long title of this was “The Four (But Actually Three So Far) Long Rests Of Ramiel The As-Of-Yet-Untitled, Recently Deceased”, alluding to the fact that the Raise Dead spell states: Coming back from the dead is an ordeal. The target takes a −4 penalty to all attack rolls, saving throws, and ability checks. Every time the target finishes a long rest, the penalty is reduced by 1 until it disappears. Yes, it was a fun stretch of sessions.

Spoilers for the Curse of Strahd adventure abound, as well as bits and pieces from the Eberron setting. A warning for (temporary) character death and related recovery, and some vampire-typical bloody violence, but nothing beyond an AO3 T rating.

In brief, Ramiel, the POV character, is an Aasimar Paladin, Lava is a Vedalken Artificer, Elgath is a Goliath Fighter. Rudolph van Richten and Ezmerelda d’Avenir are NPCs from the module and Ravenloft setting who ended up playing pretty big roles in our story, and also… I just think they’re neat.

Length: ~7700 words.

—

The Four Long Rests Of Ramiel

Fingers curled around her throat, the grip utterly merciless and unflinching, claws catching on already torn skin and flesh. The heavy rain, richly mixed with dark red, trailed freely down to her collarbone, painting the fabric of her shirt.

“One last chance,” ground out of a fanged snarl stained with her own stolen blood, an undercurrent of impatient rage tainting the cool, cultured voice from before. “Where is Rudolph van Richten?”

She couldn’t turn her throbbing, spinning, definitely concussed head to look towards her companions, try to see how they were doing. Her legs kicked out feebly and her feet could find no purchase. Her fingers tingled with the last remnants of (useless, useless) magic and slipped harmlessly off the clawed hands that were closed like a vice around her. When she forced out words, her voice was barely above a rasp, but the (futile, futile) determination in it was clear: “You’re never getting that from me.”

A burst of incredible, overwhelming pain, and then, for a little while, nothing.

-

Her eyes flutter open, barely.

Every part of her hurts, every breath a hard-won, costly victory. She can barely stand to tilt her head, the slightest of movements stretching and pulling at her ravaged neck and resounding like a drum within her skull. Her eyes burn and her eyesight blurs, and her shoulders, back, and ribs feel as if someone smashed them to bits then pieced them back together without much thought or care.

But she is alive.

She is also cold. So, so cold. But it is not a sharp wintry chill, nor the insidious misty seeping of Barovia’s dreary atmosphere. It is something deep and hollow, settled somewhere in the core of her bones.

Her vision clears up just enough to allow her to recognise the face hovering over her, but it is entirely beyond her lips to form the name, and beyond her strength to lift a hand and see if she is real or some cruel, cruel trick of the mists. Ezmerelda, worry battling with relief etched in every line of her expression. And then, next to her, the old doctor himself, alive and well, putting away the remnants of a finely made scroll. Ramiel feels a vague suggestion of relief wash over her, drowning out some of the confused jumble - doubly so when her other two travelling companions burst into the room, bringing with them an odd sense of lightness from some wellspring far beyond her understanding.

She keeps losing moments here and there, little stretches of time fluttering by and missing her entirely. There are vestiges of dragons and knights all around the cobwebbed halls of their hideout, and though tattered and ravaged by time and intruders both they seem to be exuding something new, something that she feels come over her like a balm.

Then there is a flurry of No time to explain what happened and We’ve lit the beacon but we have to go quickly and He’s coming around her, and she goes along with it because she cannot do anything else.

Well, she can’t really do this, either. So she waits, and clings to the one constant presence beside her. When she can finally manage to lift her arms even a bit, she fumbles under her shirt and feels her own heartbeat with one hand, clutching at Ezmerelda’s wrist with the other. Something warm and solid and real, to keep her from drifting off, from dissipating into the mists again.

The others are doing their best to hurry, mounting up, packing away what little is left to pack. The flight cannot wait. Soon enough Ezmerelda all but picks her up, getting her to her feet, and helps her stumble out of the crumbling old mansion they were hiding in and to the waiting wagon. She sets her down on the driver’s seat with some effort.

“It will pass in a few days,” van Richten says, adjusting his spectacles after briefly looking her over once again, bedside manner kept to the purely professional and matter-of-fact. “No cure for it but riding it out, I’m afraid.”

There’s something she needs to tell the man who just saved her life, but she cannot for the selfsame life of her hold on to a thought for more than a split second. She makes the mistake of focusing on the stabs of alternating pain and cold as he goes on to explain something about circulation and, oh, probably her heart?

Ezmerelda sees her wince and shiver and, in the midst of departure preparations, rushes over to the other side of her wagon, purposefully marching back with an armful of what seems to be the thickest blanket she had stashed away in there. She wraps it around Ramiel almost as if making a statement, then hops up on the driver’s seat next to her.

Van Richten shakes his head at the sight and at the pampering, and climbs up onto his horse. But it is not unkind, and the twist of his lip seems, while fairly inscrutable in Ramiel’s present state, far from disapproving.

The entire wagon jolts briefly, then she sees Ezmerelda take the reins and call out her Drovash! to get her magical horses to appear in a display that still never fails to make Ramiel slightly jealous. She in turn rests her head on a warm, solid shoulder as they begin their travel, wagon pitching slightly as it turns back onto the road. The rest of the world is still mostly a blur, so she closes her eyes.

She is jolted awake rather rudely some unidentifiable amount of time later, as the wagon suddenly and dramatically picks up speed.

“Wha–?” Ramiel mumbles, head heavy and mouth full of cotton.

“We’re under attack,” Ezmerelda explains brusquely with another sharp tug on the reins. “Hold on.”

Ramiel does her best to do just that. She catches flashes of her companions on their horses, weaving in and out, moving to protect the wagon from mounted attackers, and takes stock of herself as best as she can. She is in no shape to contribute to any encounter, perhaps - but she does have one last thing to give.

Ramiel remembers, more clearly than she would perhaps have liked to, one of the final, brutal attacks atop the castle tower, and the way her usually silent, stoic companion forced his way in between her and the vampire and willingly took it entirely upon himself.

“Elgath!” She can see his mountainous form, almost comically large atop his horse, galloping in parallel with the wagon. Ramiel tries to call out to him, but despite her efforts the weak rasp is barely audible over the sounds of battle and fleeing horses. “Hey! Elgath!”

He notices, at last, after throwing a javelin at some foe Ramiel can’t see, and pulls his horse over, not missing a beat. Exhaustion from all his recent sleepless, cursed nights makes his broad shoulders visibly tense under the furs of his cloak.

“I saw what you did, when… the bite. Thank you.” It’s not a time for soulful confessions of gratitude perhaps, but something in her will not allow it to go unsaid. She reaches over, puts a hand on his arm. “Here. It’s not much, but…”

It’s surprisingly easy to draw upon the very last of her healing power and allow it to flow out.

Why him? The doubt pipes up, and she doesn’t want to think who it sounds like. You could have healed yourself and perhaps been somewhat useful. Just look at the state of you. Pathetic.

Relief is visible on his often closed-off, stony features, and Ramiel knows it was the right decision. He gives a small nod. “Thank you.”

Then he’s gone, riding off again, spear at the ready.

Ramiel sinks back in her seat, the last of the warm, tingling energy leaving her hand. She feels she’s missing half the battle and the chase and the general chaos around her; whinnying horses and growling, snapping wolves and rough battlecries and whooshing crossbow bolts mixing into a cacophony beyond her understanding. Her head pounds in time with the hoofbeats of the magical horses pulling the wagon.

She fumbles for the hilt of her rapier at one point, trying to ground herself in the familiar and ever-reassuring feeling of holding a sword. To little effect. The attackers aren’t getting any closer. The confrontation - chase - ambush is dragging on, and what she needs is rest.

Ezmerelda half-stands on the seat, cursing under her breath in some language Ramiel doesn’t know, catches the reins in one hand to free the other, then turns and snaps up a handful of fire, slinging it out behind herself. The little mote of flame goes wide, and the cursing briefly intensifies before she sits back down.

Ramiel shakily lets go of the sword, careful to not let it tumble off onto the road, and goes for the Krezkian hunting longbow she frequently finds herself very thankful for. Nocking an arrow is already a struggle. The first shot hits one of the attacking berserkers surprisingly accurately, but it bounces and clatters weakly to the ground, piercing nothing.

Another. Shaky hands and weak fingers do not make for good archery, but something inside her, that one well of determination that fuels her every action and that is currently working near what she fears might be its very limit, allows her to get off a good enough shot to fell the last of their pursuers.

She manages to sit back down and place the bow behind her, and remembers very little after that.

She will manage, later, to gather up and piece together the vague flashes of making camp; sombre discussions of both the immediate and pending threat of wolves; of getting some warm and oddly comforting soup tasting of home in her that Lava provided a surprisingly poetic lecture about; of falling asleep curled up into Ezmerelda’s side, clinging to her rather desperately and caring very little about who noticed that fact.

-

To call the awakening rude would be an understatement of historic proportions.

It’s unclear, at first. It’s dark and cold, and she doesn’t understand why she’s awoken (they said she didn’t have to take any of the watches, and she agreed after only a bit of protest, so why now?), or where Ezmerelda is, or–

Wolves, so, so many wolves, encircling. Elgath, exhaustion coming off of him in waves, raising the alarm, Ezmerelda standing a little ways behind him, slightly dazed, rapier in hand but not at the ready–

And then, the Devil himself.

“I am here for Rudolph van Richten, as you have doubtlessly been informed.” His voice is perfectly level, tone perfectly courteous, but it carries through the night and into Ramiel’s still vaguely ringing ears like a clarion. “No? My, how unfortunate.”

Lava steps up, robes crumpled and askew but his bearing entirely proper, and does his best to channel all those fancy diplomats he loves talking about observing during his many travels. He tries to stall, to avert looming, imminent disaster, but even his razor-sharp and lightning-quick mind, his greatest and most trusted weapon, fails to find a way.

Strahd knows. There is no doubt he sees right through the unlikely Dusk Elf persona the doctor is currently travelling under. The act of asking is merely another test - or an opportunity. Lava’s shoulders slump in visible defeat at this understanding, buckle under the burden of an impossible, inescapable situation, and he chooses to bargain for their lives.

He raises a hand mutely, gesturing to the other side of their small camp. Strahd’s gaze follows, and then he strolls over to where van Richten is now sitting up, so very calm, as his magical hat of disguise is plucked from his head and his countenance shimmers and once again becomes his own. So remarkably at peace with his impending doom.

Ramiel is anything but. I died to stop this! she wants to scream, but instead chokes out some inarticulate sound of futile anger. She fumbles out her holy symbol, channels the only power she has left. No impressive words of rebuke come out, just a desperate cry of “No!” as she clumsily tries to throw herself between them.

Strahd bats her arm away, unaffected, not even sparing her a look as he delivers more ultimatums, more thinly veiled threats, entirely secure in his triumph.

You can’t have him, she wants to shout back, but that would be a lie, just as much as I promised is achingly true. She wants to jump to her feet, dash forward to some end, just so she can feel she’s doing something. But Lava waves a hand, features uncharacteristically pained and apologetic, and an invisible force shoves her back down, for her own sake.

She watches them go, powerless, with a thousand flavours of We’ll come for you, we won’t abandon you to this fate– stuck in her throat. They all do, quietly standing by in various stages of dismay, as Strahd struts down the hill and beside him the feigned slow steps of a feeble old man snap back into the more brisk, business-like pace they have come to expect from the doctor.

And then they are gone.

Ramiel tears her gaze away from the dark trees and looks to each of her companions. Lava, mumbling pleas for forgiveness at what he has been forced to do; Elgath right next to him, with an expression of numb shock; a distraught Ezmerelda, hands clenched into trembling fists.

Well. There is one thing Ramiel can do, at least.

She gets back up, every part of her protesting her efforts to remain on her feet. The two-three dragging steps she takes feel like a gargantuan achievement. She takes one of Ezmerelda’s hands in her own, and soon feels the grip returned almost uncomfortably firmly.

“Ezmerelda,” Ramiel calls out weakly, weaker than she might have liked, and to little response. She presses on anyway. “Stay close to me, alright?” As if she hasn’t been doing so all along. “You know it will take a day to clear up. The charm,” she almost spits out the word. “But you don’t have to actually feel it.” Then, more quietly, “I don’t want you to feel it. I can help.”

I couldn’t stop you losing him, but I can give you this small mercy, at least.

Ezmerelda seems to jolt out of whatever thoughts she was stewing in and back to awareness at that, and gives a weak nod. “That moment before you woke up was enough. I– he– he has no right…”

She shakes her head as if trying to shake off the hateful, violating influence, and then looks a bit lost. Ramiel wants nothing more than to never have to see her like this again - to never see any of them cruelly torn into by one of his visits, each in their own way.

Soon. Soon. Soon.

It’s Elgath who breaks the silence next, voice more gravelly than usual. “Not much point in keeping watch anymore, but, well…” He gestures vaguely. “You should all try to go back to sleep.”

He’s right, of course. But Ramiel feels like she never wants to sleep again, never be caught unawares, never not be providing every little scrap of protection she possibly can.

The most she manages is to see Ezmerelda fall into a fitful sleep first. The sheer exhaustion and the mounting toll of their ordeals wins not long after.

-

The fangs sunk in and in and in, as if they were endless, first burning upon puncture, then chilling. Muscles seizing against the intrusion, but only making it worse. Then, the horrible, slow drain.

“I hope it burns on your tongue,” she managed to spit, struggling fruitlessly in his grip.

The glimmering red eyes of the Devil met hers as he pulled back, having had his fill for the moment. His deceptively young face twisted into a wicked, self-satisfied smirk as he lightly dabbed at the bloody corner of his lip. “Oh, be assured it’s actually quite sweet.”

Disgust coupled with frustration mounting, she let out what could only be termed a growl, and succeeded in freeing her right arm. She received only a mocking, glinting, fanged smile in return for her efforts.

-

She darts awake, gasping violently, her hand flying up to her neck. Her fingers just about brush against the tears and bruises, but then another hand takes hers, firmly but not unkindly, and pulls it away.

“Hey, hey, hey, stop. Calm down. You’re fine, you’re fine. Listen to me. Hey.”

A voice, stern but concerned. Ramiel knows that voice well. She… is fond of that voice. The presence of its owner has been the one unfailing source of something resembling joy here in Barovia, for such a brief, but such an important time.

She breathes in slowly, and feels her drumming heartbeat slowly return to a normal pace, and Ezmerelda helps her sit up properly.

Ezmerelda, who has been painfully obviously insistent on staying by her side from the moment her eyes opened on that musty floor, to the first weak, stumbling step as she helped her up, and on throughout the entire dismal aftermath of their ill-fated expedition to Castle Ravenloft. What feels like the continuation of the steady, stubborn buildup from a palpable but unacknowledged tension intertwining with the rising trust of repeatedly facing peril and fighting side by side. A supposedly indulgent night during celebrations at the camp outside of Vallaki becoming two, and then three, and then turning into a yearning for as much time together as could be eked out.

“I’m so sorry I woke you up,” Ramiel whispers, only mostly coherent. “You should go back to sleep. You first, and then…”

“Never mind all that,” she is interrupted impatiently as Ezmerelda waves her concerns off. “It’s almost light anyway. What happened?”

Ramiel shudders, and makes a weak, vague gesture towards herself. “A nightmare? I could still feel… in my neck…”

Ezmerelda looks at her, frown deepened by the play of pre-dawn shadows and the remnants of their campfire embers. She is, for once, inscrutable. Then she appears to come to a decision.

“Here.”

She reaches up and unties the striking red bandanna from around her head, decorative medallions glinting as she untangles them and puts them away somewhere in her coat. She leans over to instead wrap the cloth around Ramiel’s neck, slowly and gently, like trying not to startle a wild animal.

It’s warm. She ties it lightly enough not to cause pain, but tightly enough to be felt as a reassuring presence, to provide a sense of comfort and protection while hiding the jagged reminders from immediate sight. It brings back to mind the sound of thunder and the smell of lightning splitting the musty castle air - the sudden appearance of Ezmerelda at her side, staring the Devil right in the eye. Seemingly fearless, electricity surging and arcing and crackling around her, whisking them both away to some desperate hope of safety.

Ramiel catches one of her hands as she pulls back from her work, and presses a kiss to it in lieu of thanks.

Neither of them say anything more. Ezmerelda pulls them both down to lie on the bedrolls, as what passes for dawn in Barovia slowly breaks.

-

This, this was unpleasantly familiar.

The mists pressed in and in mercilessly, but also seemed to be tearing her apart. Her will alone, sheer determination, was keeping her together in some incomprehensible way, but the strain was almost unbearable. She could see them all; her companions, herself, even - or, well, what was left of her there - not a very pretty sight. Trying to get the horses to cooperate, bickering, exhausted, half out of their minds with shock and grief and worry, doing their best.

Her nonexistent hand went to her nonexistent heart, as if to grasp at the spike of feeling that seemed to go through it briefly.

Then… the mists swirling and roiling all around, and so many strange creatures, strange things she had no way of making heads or tails of. Lava striking some odd, convoluted, ill-advised bargain. An old woman leading them all to some kind of circle, and then…

A tearing.

She tried to scream, but there was nothing left to scream with. 

-

As they climb higher and higher on the twisting mountain paths, the newly lit silvery beacon rising from Argynvostholt comes to dominate the ever-misty vista. It lights up the night as they travel, and remains steadily shining over them during the morning as they settle in for their brief daylit rest. Looking at it feels simply and pleasantly good, resolutely buoying in a way that’s impossible to explain. Ramiel doesn’t understand how it works - it is tragic they never had the time to get the full story from Argynvost’s most devoted knights, fallen or otherwise - but what it represents is more than clear. Hope. And hope is something the dreary lands of Barovia - and they themselves - have been sorely lacking.

It brings to mind Irian, the eternal Dawn. The plane of beginnings, of newness, of ever starting afresh. Of brimming as-of-yet untapped potential. Young and untouched, fresh springs bubbling over with clean, healing waters, feeding meadows that have never been trod upon. An early dewy morning that stretches on forever, somehow. Light, bright and searing. Growth and flourishing and all that starts and doesn’t end.

It never, ever ends.

Ramiel’s never been there, of course, but she’s dreamt of it, seen it. Witnessed its effects in their world, and, over the years, recognised the ways it forms and informs her own being, though the exact nature of her ties to it remain a mystery.

The Silver Flame, on the other hand, burns, but it doesn’t burn hot. It envelops and protects. Incandescent, glorious, impenetrable. Surging when it is time to drive off threats, leaping and searing bright down her blade when she lifts it in battle, if the cause is just. She’s been instructed in the texts, of course, in the many interpretations of the words of the Keepers, trained and prepared for the weight of duties that come with the ability to so readily become a conduit for the flame. When she dies, she can only hope to join the efforts to bolster and feed the blaze with her very being.

There is no end to duty, either, or to true devotion.

Neither Dawn nor Flame were to be found in the gloomy, isolated lands of Barovia, more a prison than a county or a kingdom. There was little save for what Ramiel happened to bring in herself - two sources of divinity, gleaming gold and bright silver intertwining, flowing through her and burning in her, shaping the meanders of the river of her life. It feels bitterly right, then, that a silver beacon of hope burns brightly across the horizon, and that she paid for it in blood, and more besides.

When they discussed their immediate plans, settling on a desperate last-ditch attempt to find a powerful mage hiding in the mountains, she told them all about what she saw, during her time… in between. The disgusting, creeping creature haunting them unseen, the parade of eldritch knights - all doubtlessly important, but nothing she could make sense of herself. There is more there, however, that she has to tell someone. That she feels will try to claw out of her chest otherwise.

The mood is dour enough - no sounds of Lava muttering to himself during his incessant tinkering as long, blue fingers move over metal and wood and spring faster than anyone can follow, or of Elgath scribbling in one his notebooks, jotting down the events of the day in quick shorthand, then moving on to slow and deliberate, almost ritual-like, tracing and retracing of runes new and old. No conversation is struck up beyond what is utterly necessary for continued travel.

While certainly not in the sorry state she was in the day before, the toll the steep, far from well-trodden mountain road is taking on Ramiel is considerable. She dearly misses the comforts of the travelling wagon they were sadly forced to abandon. And yet, when they stop for the day and set up camp, she finds herself wide awake long after everyone else seems to have fallen more or less peacefully asleep. While she’s in no state to toss and turn so much as rearrange herself achingly slowly and very, very carefully, she does manage to send a rather sharp elbow into a soft side.

Ezmerelda’s beginnings of a snore turn into a startled grunt, and then a quiet, “What–?”

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. Sorry. Go back to sleep,” she whispers, and tries once again to make herself comfortable in the bedroll.

“I might if you stopped squirming about for five minutes.” The irritation has very little real bite, however. Ezmerelda seems to consider something for a moment, then gives a long-suffering sigh and sits up slightly, her long coat folded behind her in an improvised cushion. “Something on your mind?”

Ramiel smiles wryly. “Am I so transparent?”

The only response from Ezmerelda is a shrug, and an attentive look with only the slightest, barest trace of annoyance, once she blinks her light doze away fully. Go on, her eyes seem to say, as they catch the silvery reflection of the beacon.

“You know, when I was… gone,” Ramiel starts, awkwardly, hesitantly. “I tried to hold on… to myself? But even so, every last drop of my determination wasn’t enough. You brought me back in Argynvostholt of all places, and I can’t help but think of those knights, restless and undying. I can’t help but think, it could have been me. Relentless, rage-driven, determined beyond death, just like them. Could still be me, honestly. I felt it.”

Ezmerelda hums thoughtfully. “Would you… want to? If it came to that?”

“I… I don’t know,” Ramiel admits slowly. “I’ve thought about it, and I thought that yes, I would. If it meant taking him down for good. But…”

She pauses, swallows. Rubs at her neck - carefully.

“But there is something the Lady I squired under once said, about our oaths, about why she fights, and I will carry those words with me for as long as I live, because she was right. She said: I don’t fight because I hate what’s in front of me. I fight because I love what’s behind me.” [1]

She lets the words breathe a little before continuing. Tries not to spiral into thinking of the possible fates of the ever-fearsome Lady Herleve the Hawk, and the weight of not knowing that’s always at their heels, like a shadow, waiting for a moment of distraction.

“I do want to stamp out the evil plaguing this place, more than anything– but I’ve sworn no oath of vengeance and destruction. My oath speaks of protection and devotion and… I mean… I haven’t…”

It’s something that’s been troubling her for a long time, and doubly, almost burningly so since her brief death and sudden return, and the words don’t come easily at all. “I haven’t really sworn any oath. I was supposed to, soon. But there was the attack, and the retreat, and then we ended up here and I…”

She thinks of the crumpled bit of parchment she keeps stowed away in an inner pocket, with the carefully written-out lines of the knighting ceremony and official vows she’s pored over embarrassingly often for such a brief bit of text. She thinks of how instead of a formal errand, earning a knightly title and partaking in the final ritual - not grand, perhaps, but always deeply meaningful - she laid two long-dead children to rest in the haunted house that was their first real taste of the cursed land that entrapped them.

“What I mean is… all this, and I’m not even a real knight. Hah,” it’s a very bitter chuckle that escapes her, almost involuntarily.

Ezmerelda raises an eyebrow, tilts her head. “I don’t see anything unreal about you. What are you talking about?”

Ramiel frowns and fumbles for words. “I know it shouldn’t necessarily ‘count’ and all that, and… while I understand what’s important, that this is really no time for such petty concerns, I still–”

“I mean, it clearly counts in all the ways that matter, Miss Endless Well of Healing and Protection,” Ezmerelda cuts her off. “Where else would that be coming from?” She shrugs, feigning casualness, even as some of her words traitorously slip into a determined, even passionate cadence. “Realest knight I’ve ever met, anyway.”

Ramiel gets just a bit choked up. Instead of a reply, she opts for a hug. It is returned.

“Now please go to sleep,” she hears Ezmerelda mumble exhaustedly somewhere near her temple.

This time, snuggled into a warm shoulder, she does so without much trouble.

-

For the briefest moment, they both stopped in their tracks, trying to orient themselves, listening. Hearing nothing but the patter of the heavy rain outside and the occasional drip upon the elaborate interior stonework from their own soaked clothes, and the drumming of their own hearts in their ears.

Then, a terrifying hollow thud from just above them, followed by heavy footsteps, and their respite was cut painfully short.

“We need to run, now,” Ezmerelda gasped out, eyes wide, curls plastered over her forehead with both rainwater and sweat, chest already heaving with exertion but making to pull them both down the corridor.

“He’s too fast,” Ramiel managed through gritted teeth, almost tripping over some royal carpet or other, turning to look over her shoulder - only to confirm her fears.

Strahd’s expression was mild, neutral, almost peacefully nonchalant as he effortlessly pursued them with inhuman speed. Then, a corner of his lips quirked upwards.

I am inevitable, he seemed to say, without saying a single word.

Not a breath later, his claws came down upon her again.

-

There is, somehow, a perfectly tailored room for each of them in the conjured mansion. The four of them slowly make their way down the impossibly long hallway, freshly bathed and pampered and enveloped in decadently fluffy robes, bellies full of food, heads abuzz with plans and new knowledge and the wild, wild events of the day. The odd mostly-invisible servants have left them alone, for now.

They briefly stop in front of the first door to wish Lava a good night as he goes into his chambers. From the glimpse Ramiel manages to catch, it looks more like a library than a bedroom, with a delightful ceiling of bright blue sky matching the tone of the Vedalken’s skin perfectly, and only the odd fluffy white cloud floating about. Elgath’s, next, seems slightly colder than the rest of the house, a cool but not uncomfortable breeze of high mountain air wafting over them as he opens the door. With a murmur of farewell and silent questions on being able to actually get a good night’s sleep in a properly sized bed written plainly on his broad face, he is gone too.

Then it’s just the two of them and the muffled sound of their slow footsteps shuffling along in the outrageously thick carpet.

Ramiel can tell the next room is hers. She doesn’t even pause to think twice, but instead takes Ezmerelda’s hand tightly, and gives her a light tug towards the door.

“Listen, if you want your privacy, I understand, of course, but…” She starts but trails off, words sticking in her throat strangely and uncomfortably. Though the past few days have done much for her overall state, she can feel that insidious chill clawing its way through her chest again at each parting. As everything quiets down, all the odd magical pampering has yet to fully mask the deep-seated aches.

She manages, finally, in a very small voice. “I don’t… I don’t want to sleep alone.”

Ezmerelda pulls her into an embrace and holds her tightly. “I’m glad to hear that,” she murmurs in her ear, “because I’m not letting you go again.”

The room they enter is very simple, and very comfortable and comforting in its simplicity. The only thing that stands out is one far corner of it, looking like a segment of a warm, slightly bubbling pool plucked right out of a bathhouse.

Ramiel walks over to it briefly, running her fingers over the surface of the water, watching the ripples form. “You know, before today I’ve never taken a bath and not relished it. Never just hopped in and gotten clean just to get it done with.” She wrinkles her nose, knowing she must look rather childish and petulant, and tries to spin it into a joke. “It’s horrible.”

The bathrobe is so soft. The bed is absolutely decadent. Ramiel has never seen or felt anything like it in her life. She can’t find it in herself to enjoy even a moment of it.

“Do you know of this man? He seemed to think we should have heard of him. A ‘Magnificent Mansion’ - what in all the worlds…”

Ezmerelda shakes her head. She’s been noticeably subdued since the odd, frantic energy of a feast-like dinner combined with an impromptu magic circle workshop wore off. There is a bit of collarbone peeking out of her robe, leading to a slip of bare shoulder and a thin, dark line of an old scar, one that Ramiel has yet to hear the story behind. The small silver pendant carefully shaped by Ramiel’s own hands to resemble a lightning bolt glints in the muted ambience of the room.

“He was so calm,” Ezmerelda manages after a long silence, sitting listlessly on the edge of the large bed, rather unlike herself. “That’s what I keep thinking about. He just… stood there.”

Ramiel sits down next to her, and the sight of the Doctor and the Devil facing off in the dark forest flashes in her mind’s eye.

She then remembers her conversation with Ezmerelda in the inn from a mere week ago, the almost desperately simple and honest I don’t want Rudolph to die and the quiet He is family to me and more besides, in a moment of such clear openness and vulnerability Ramiel would have been ready to swear she’d pluck the moon out of the sky, if this could somehow help.

“We’ll get him back.”

Ezmerelda’s brow furrows, in anger, frustration, or sorrow, or some mix that seems too painful to parse, as she bursts out, “He’s in that fucking castle, if he’s even still alive, going through gods know what while we’re sitting here after attending a damned conjured banquet, and the last time we went there you died! He killed you! That bastard killed you with his bare hands and I couldn’t do anything about it!”

Her hands are clenched in the rich bedspread, and her chest is heaving with rage she can’t quite direct. Ramiel places a gentle hand under her chin, lifting her face up to meet her eyes. “I promised, remember? I don’t make those lightly.” She tries to give a wry smile, to twist something into some sort of light, joking air. “I guess I owe the good doctor my life now, quite literally. So don’t you worry about that promise going unfulfilled.”

“I’m… I’m not.” The reply is simple but carries so much weight and faith in it Ramiel feels an odd pressure form behind her eyes, like she might want to cry, just a bit.

Ezmerelda sighs. “I trust you. Even with - quite honestly - a lot of evidence to the contrary sometimes… But I hear you say these wild things with such ridiculous certainty and conviction: oh, we’ll find the powerful mystery mage and get him on our side, and we’ll get the mighty sword of sunlight and we’ll march right up to the castle and free van Richten, and, and– I can’t help but believe them.” She sounds almost exasperated at herself.

“Then you know I mean it when I say I’d rather die than let you down.” Ramiel has never felt more serious in her life. It takes even her herself by surprise, a bit.

“I’d rather you didn’t die. Again. Please,” Ezmerelda’s voice is quiet and soft and rather uncharacteristically vulnerable. “But I suppose you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t say these things while utterly, utterly meaning them. You wouldn’t be the person I…”

She trails away, swallows with some effort, and looks away.

Ramiel feels words almost burning in her chest, fighting to come out. “Well, let me say a few more things, then,” she starts, and Ezmerelda jolts a bit at the fierceness of the tone.

“You came all this way for him, and you are about to stroll right back into the den of the beast for him. Even after you’ve been apart for, what, years, and even after his latest plan almost got you killed. I won’t pretend I know why, but I do understand why. Because if there’s one thing I understand in this life, it’s loyalty and devotion. And you just… you have that in spades. I know… what you said back at the inn,” she allows herself the briefest bit of hesitation. “I don’t necessarily want to pry and interrogate you about your history and whatever you feel you need to be making up for, and… that’s all fine, that’s all yours to know. But I think - and I’ve told you this before, and I still mean it now - you keep selling yourself short.”

“You don’t even know–” Ezmerelda begins.

“I don’t need to,” Ramiel insists, gazing into her eyes with a steely determination she’d, for a few brief days, feared might have slipped beyond her grasp. “I don’t need to.”

She sees Ezmerelda is about to scoff and try to dismiss it all and put on a tough front, so she presses on. “There is a lot to be admired about you. A lot I admire. Now, if he can’t see it? His loss. But I hope he will. You’ll see. He will. In fact, I think he already does. And when we get him back he can tell you so himself.”

She puts an arm around Ezmerelda’s shoulders as if pulling her in to share something in confidence, and continues in a more quiet, but no less determined tone. “And then, when we stake that monster together, van Richten can tell you just how proud he is of you, and how very lucky he is to have someone as amazing as you to carry on the fight against the darkness.”

Ezmerelda shakes her head, not entirely convinced. But there is something like the ghost of a smile hovering around her lips. Ramiel takes that as a victory, at least for tonight.

-

This time, Strahd stops to take her in, just like he did on the castle wall, in the pouring rain. But then he turns oh-so-slightly and instead sets his gaze on Ezmerelda. A cruel, vicious understanding dawns on his face.

“Oh,” his voice and lips curl around the syllable as if it is a delectable morsel served up for his taking and slow consumption. “I see how it is.”

Ezmerelda, suddenly very painfully aware of his full attention being on her, reaches for her rapier.

She is too slow.

-

This time, when she finally, mercifully jolts awake from the nightmare, she finds she is crying.

Ramiel turns over and shoves her face between neck and shoulder, allowing herself the selfishness of waking their owner up, and lets the hot, stinging tears fall as silently as possible. There is a hand stroking soothingly down her back, she notices blurrily after some time. There is one gently resting on the back of her head, right where…

It stops, at some point; the burning flow dries up all on its own. Enveloped in the (warm, non-threatening, comfortable) darkness, she allows herself a soft confession into a battle-hardened shoulder that is by far the best pillow she has ever felt under her cheek.

“I don’t want to die here.”

It’s not a noble or inspirational sentiment, it is not some platitude about honour, it is not an observation upon the value of oaths and the trials of keeping them. It is barely above a whisper, but it is the truth, as she has been sworn to tell it.

“I thought, you know, I kept saying it’s fine if it’s me, I just can’t allow it to be anyone else. Not like… like Vallaki. Not Lava, who has so much to go back to, or Elgath, who has so much to see, so far to go. Not you. But it can be me.”

She takes a shuddering breath, and the arms around her tighten. She feels glad about the hold, thankful for how her face is hidden, how she doesn’t have to meet anyone’s eyes.

“But now I… I don’t–” Another heavy breath, and she manages to press on. “I don’t want to die here. I can’t let so much be left unfinished. No single one of us is expected to complete the work, but neither may any one desist from it,” she completes the recitation from memory, holding up the words in front of her like a shield. [2]

But that’s not it, either, is it?

“There’s so much I need– I want to do! I want to actually take my oaths. I want to see what happened with our home. I want to find out what happened with… with my family. It’s been so, so long. I should have… no,” Ramiel cuts herself off sternly, well-practised, “that’s a pointless path to take.”

Then, she manages a brief smile, as her thoughts turn to the more whimsical. “I want to fly on an airship - I’ve never, you know? I’ve seen them, but never up close. And I want… I’ve always wanted to see Irian - the plane? The sanctuary, the baths. All of it. I mean, I don’t know how to get there, but I’m sure I could find a way.”

“But this place…” She shudders. “This is the wrong place for anyone to die.”

Ramiel turns to lie on her back, gazing at the ceiling which she only now notices is lined with small, sparkling, clearly magical constellations. She finds, to her surprise, she recognises them - Aasterinian, Io, and there, the long tail of Bahamut… an odd but not unwelcome bittersweet little taste of home. The familiar skies with ships soaring by on wheels of fire.

“I want to fly,” she says finally, almost reverently, reaching up with one hand, seeing the stars glimmer between her fingers. Thinks of the many, many dreams she’s had of gliding through the air on powerful golden wings, and of the pale reflection of them she is capable of manifesting for but a painfully brief time.

“I’d love to see you fly,” Ezmerelda, quietly listening for so long, adds in a murmur.

Ramiel smiles, and allows warmth to fill her. “I’ll have to make it spectacular, then, just for you.” Then she lets out a small chuckle at her own expense. “Maybe one day I’ll even figure out how to take you with me.”

“I’ll take you up on that,” Ezmerelda replies, forcing a casual air. “I’ve been to a great many places, and I’ve done quite a few things, but I can’t say I’ve ever flown before.” Her expression darkens a bit, then, her eyes narrowing, an intense, steely purposefulness creeping into them. “A victory lap, right from the top of Ravenloft’s tallest tower.”

Ramiel nods, the determined mood catching, in odd contrast to their lush, comfortable surroundings, and her most recent dream spikes chillingly into her thoughts. “I’m not letting that monster lay a hand on you.”

She can tell her eyes are burning alight by the way the shadows dance across Ezmerelda’s face when their gazes lock. She can tell that there is light seeping out of the thin scar on her jaw and out of the visible remnants of her more recent wounds. She can feel the roiling in her gut, the burning in her chest that’s always been hers, but that she has only recently come to truly know and harness.

Ezmerelda places her hands on Ramiel’s cheeks, cups her jaw with a gentleness not many would give her credit for, and rests their foreheads together. Then, she moves only slightly and comes in for a soft kiss.

“I was so relieved,” Ramiel whispers when they part, “when he looked at you, looked between us, and utterly failed to see anything.”

Ezmerelda looks at her curiously, a small frown furrowing her brow, but says nothing.

“No, but, see. He doesn’t understand. He never will. He can’t. For all his raging at his cursed fate, for all his efforts, all the poor people who have suffered because of him… Or maybe even because of all this, his cursed, tarnished, cold and rotted heart is incapable. He doesn’t understand it.”

“What doesn’t he understand?”

“Love.”

Ezmerelda stops and looks at her quietly, mouth very slightly agape. Her gaze is heavy with the implications she is gathering and sifting through, ever so carefully and tentatively.

“I mean,” Ramiel swallows and tries for a lighter note. “He failed where even our famously dispassionate Vedalken friend didn’t.”

“Oh?” It is possibly the shiest and most hesitant Ramiel has ever seen her.

She raises her hand to cup Ezmerelda’s cheek and pull her closer, one thumb stroking gently. For once, the words seem to come as easily as they are always supposed to for some kind of radiant and inspiring divine champion.

“He looked at me and he looked at you and he couldn’t see the most obvious thing in all the worlds.”

Ezmerelda makes a few unsuccessful attempts at a question before she manages to breathe one out. “And what… what would that be?”

“That I love you.”

Ezmerelda flinches away briefly, almost as if she’s been burned. But then she all but throws her arms around Ramiel and holds her tightly - and the kisses she presses everywhere she can reach do everything to dull any pain and discomfort this incurs.

She reaches the lips last, the kiss long and deep and loaded with meaning and intent and promise and fierce, fierce determination, and the I love you too she remembers to speak out loud only later.

—

1. G.K. Chesterton paraphrase. ↩

2. Paraphrase of a quote from Pirkei Avot that @docholligay has embedded in my brain and quite honestly life forever, much love ↩

[kahoolaish]

My current RP lineup

Raun | Human/vampire hybrid | lvl 9 | Blood Hunter | Curse of Strahd

Falx | Human | lvl 10 | Gunslinger | Homebrew

Amber | Human Mark of Sentinel | lvl 4 | Paladin | Eberron

Väkal | Human | lvl 12 | Fighter/Rogue | Homebrew

And Alexis & Aron get to play regularly too, but only in written form with no system.

[polyhedral-sunrise]

I wanna hear about your dnd ocs if you want to please share!

So I wrote most of an answer to this and forgot to save it so 🤞 for this time 😅

Tbh I have never been in a consistent long form campaign and while most of these characters were created sometime in my college years and during the pandemic, I have not had time to play them. I really loved the dnd 5e system, so I'm really good at creating characters and choosing flavor based on abilities but I suck at rp so their personalities are under developed unfortunately 😅

I'm gonna describe 3 of them for now, but there's a few more in the tank for later 😋

1. Khurz Ruinseeker (I think? I don't have the character sheet on me lol) he/him

Khurz is a half-orc conjuration wizard with a fascination for archaeology. I imagine him dressed in suits and cloaks that are always somehow dusty, even when it's wet outside. He's a little scatterbrained but he can use his abilities to make copies of artifacts he finds to study them closely without damaging the items in question. I haven't played a wizard in a minute so I'm excited to see if this campaign starts up again.

2. 73NTRI, they/them

Warforged paladin of the ancients, first nb character 😊

Name stands for 73-Natural Territory Reconnaissance and Investigation, kind of like a scout? They have a scroll case built into their forearm and are trained to make maps and scout unfamiliar territory.

Tbh I've always loved the vibes of bastion from overwatch and I kinda wanted to create a character with the same wonder and honest naivety. The (future) DM and I workshopped a little bit to buff some parts of the ancients path since it's a little under tuned for sure.

They were deactivated somehow(they don't remember) and one day woke up and heard a sourceless call for help, from an ancient nature deity, to help destroy the undead influence that has been draining the deity's power slowly over millennia. I'm writing a short story of their origin now but it's still a wip.

I'm still tinkering with the design of the character, but I'm imagining a stone and wooden construct entertwined with vines and heavy armor. I'm not too happy with the official designs for the warforged from eberron so I need to find a design I like before I can finalize it.

3. Tymir Stormbrand, he/him

This is a character I have played, in a few games, but I kinda jumped into a late stage campaign so I feel like I didn't get a chance to encompass the character as well as I'd like to 😔

He's a dwarven blood hunter, order of the ursinthrope (were-bears)

He grew up in the dwarven federation and joined the military since one of his moms holds a high position. He fell in love with one of his fellow soldiers in the war against an undead human despot but they died during the conflict and he decided to leave after his service was completed. During his travels, he was wounded by a monster and saved by the blood hunters, eventually joining them and setting off to hunt monsters to keep people safe (think the Witcher, kinda)

He was recruited and started to help in a war against the same undead king from before, and that's kinda where I left him since.

I'm not great at fleshing out the character traits since I'm weaker at rp-ing them but that's definitely something I want to improve at in the future

Let me know if you have anymore questions, I appreciate the interest!

[tigerkirby215]

5e Katarina, the Sinister Blade build (League of Legends)

(Artwork by Riot Games. In b4 Tumblr gives me ToS for this picture.)

In my defense I had this build planned since pre-Tasha’s. With Katarina being absolutely nuts in preseason right now along with her just generally being one of League’s most popular champs I’d have to get around to making a build for her eventually.

Look it was either her or Zac. The only other build I really want to do right now is Miss Fortune and truthfully I’m kinda stumped on her. This build isn’t a build it’s a cry for help.

GOALS

Preparation - We’ll need to always be ready for a fight, with a weapon in hand and ways to rush in.

Shunpo - We’ll also need a way to jump on our foes, or jump away.

Death Lotus - When push comes to shove we’ll need to shred through everyone close by spinning and throwing daggers at a rapid pace!

RACE

Katarina is a human but with some special, magical talents. I’m sure by now people know my aversion to Variant Humans and my love of Eberron Dragonmarks so the Mark of Finding is perfect for finding marks and ending them.

With the Mark of Finding you get some Ability Score Improvements but thanks to Tasha’s we can get a +2 to our Intelligence and a +1 to our Dexterity. You also have Darkvision up to 60 feet, and Hunter’s Intuition, letting you add a d4 to Perception and Survival checks. Finally Finder’s Magic giving you some innate spells.

ABILITY SCORES

15; DEXTERITY - You’re an assassin who hops, skips, and jumps around the battlefield.

14; INTELLIGENCE - For whatever reason Katerina does AP damage? I mean she did. Now she builds Kraken Slayer because lol Rito balance.

13; CHARISMA - People don’t only main you because you’re strong.

12; WISDOM - Kata in lore is a bit of a hot-head but Wisdom is attached to many skills that an assassin needs.

10; CONSTITUTION - You’re a squishy midlaner.

8; STRENGTH - We simply don’t need Strength and with your build I doubt you have much. Even if jumping around like that requires a lot of muscles in the legs and chest.

BACKGROUND

So apparently Katerina is part of a Noxian Noble family? Regardless as a Noble you gain proficiency in History but I’d suggest swapping your Persuasion proficiency with Intimidation instead. You also get proficiency with a gaming set and a language of your choice.

Thanks to your noble birth you have a Position of Privilege, meaning that other nobles will welcome you within their circles and common folk will do their best to please you in order to avoid getting a dagger in their throat. You can even secure an audience with a noble if you need to! Perhaps you need to put a knife in their throat? An assassin doesn’t ask questions.

(Artwork by Riot Games)

THE BUILD

LEVEL 1 - ROGUE 1

Starting off as a Rogue for skill proficiencies also because yeah duh. As a Rogue you get proficiency in four skills from the Rogue list: Acrobatics is an obvious choice, Athletics will help your poor Strength score, Perception will help you spot incoming hooded assassins, and Stealth will let you do Rogue things. Rogue things like Sneak Attack if an ally is near an enemy or you have advantage, granting you an extra d6 on the attack roll.

You also get Expertise in two of your skills: both Stealth and Acrobatics make sense for an assassin. Speaking of assassin Thieves’ Cant will let you communicate with them in a way that your enemies can’t understand. And to top it off Finder’s Magic you can cast Hunter’s Mark once per Long Rest. Smite and Ignite to get First Blood.

LEVEL 2 - ROGUE 2

Second level Rogues get Cunning Action to Dash, Disengage, or Hide as a Bonus Action. "Never play fair."

LEVEL 3 - ROGUE 3

Third level Rogues get to choose their Roguish Archetype and there’s two important things about your knives:

They do magic damage (for some reason.)

You throw them a lot.

With that in mind we shall be going for the Soulknife from Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything. As a Soulknife you get Psionic Power for a pool of d6 Psionic Energy die that can be used for a variety of features. Psi-Bolstered Knack will let you boost your ability checks as long as you’re proficient, and Psychic Whispers will let you keep assassination plans to team chat.

Of course what we’re really here for is Psychic Blades, a magic d6 psychic damage knife that you can make when you attack which can be dual-wielded and thrown up to 60 feet. You can also attack again with your Bonus Action if you already stabbed with your main action, but the extra attack will only do a d4 instead of a d6.

Speaking of magic: you also get Locate Object from Finder’s Magic. Perhaps not as useful as Find Person, but thievery isn’t beneath you. Your Sneak Attack also increases to 2d6.

LEVEL 4 - ROGUE 4

4th level Rogues get an Ability Score Improvement: turns out Dexterity is pretty important for a Rogue so increase that by 2.

(Artwork by Jennifer Wuestling. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 5 - WIZARD 1

Time for an AP boost. First level Wizards get Spellcasting because what else did you think they got? You learn three cantrips and six leveled spells when starting out as a Wizard, even if you can only prepare a number of spells equal to your Wizard level plus your Intelligence modifier:

CANTRIPS

Instead of making a dinky d4 knife empower it with Booming Blade for some Thunder damage, and even more damage if the enemy moves.

To twirl around with Voracity Sword Burst will strike everyone near one of your daggers with your knives.

For a long ranged damage tool that inflicts Grievous Wounds Chill Touch will let you make sure your lane opponent doesn’t run away and heal up.

SPELLS

Mage Armor will help you avoid a few more hits.

For a Bouncing Blade (sorta) take Ice Knife to hit your target and anyone close to them.

For a shield thanks to Gunblade (like it’s TFT) take False Life to bolster yourself somewhat.

Disguise Self will be helpful for any infiltration missions.

Detect Magic likewise is useful to locate any magical traps.

Every good Rogue has a backup plan: Feather Fall is always useful in a pinch.

You also get Arcane Recovery, allowing you to recover spell slots with a combined total level of half your Wizard level.

LEVEL 6 - WIZARD 2

Second level Wizards get to choose their Arcane Tradition. There is actually a school for magic knives and that school is the art of Bladesinging! As a Bladesinger you get Training in War and Song for proficiency in Performance along with a one-handed melee weapon of your choice: for whatever reason Rogues don’t get proficiency in Scimitars so grab that I guess?

But much more importantly you can invoke a Bladesong as a Bonus Action, which lasts for 1 minute but ends early if you are incapacitated. (Or if you don medium or heavy armor or a shield, or if you use two hands to make an attack with a weapon. I guess.) You can also dismiss the Bladesong at any time with no action required.

While your Bladesong is active you gain a bonus to your AC equal to your Intelligence modifier, your walking speed increases by 10 feet, you have advantage on Acrobatics checks, and you gain a bonus to Concentration checks equal to your Intelligence modifier. You can activate Bladesong a number of times equal to your proficiency bonus, and you regain all expended uses of it when you finish a long rest.

You can also learn more spells like Color Spray for a getaway option, or Cause Fear of incoming ganks.

LEVEL 7 - WIZARD 3

Third level Wizards can learn second level spells like Mirror Image to be everywhere at once, and Misty Step for legally not Flash.

LEVEL 8 - WIZARD 4

4th level Wizards get an Ability Score Improvement: more Dexterity means more AC and deadlier stabs with your knife.

You can also learn more spells like Invisibility for some Duskblade resets, and Enhance Ability (ty Tasha’s) to make sure you’re the best around. And you can learn another cantrip like Prestidigitation for some generic utility sorcery.

LEVEL 9 - WIZARD 5

5th level Wizards can learn third level spells like Haste to up your APM, and Spirit Shroud to make all your stabs all the deadlier.

LEVEL 10 - WIZARD 6

At 6th level you get an Extra Attack as a Bladesinger, but unlike most Extra Attacks you can also cast a cantrip along with attacking! The interesting thing about this is that (rules as written) you can attack twice after casting Booming Blade with this! And depending on your DM you might even still have your Cunning Action!

And on the subject of spells you can learn two more such as Clairvoyance for some Farsight Alterations, and Nondetection to... not be detected...

(Artwork by Atey Ghailan. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 11 - ROGUE 5

5th level Rogues get Uncanny Dodge. When you’re hit with an attack you can use your reaction to halve the damage. Additionally your Psionic Energy die increases to a d8, and your Sneak Attack increases to 3d6.

LEVEL 12 - ROGUE 6

6th level Rogues get Expertise in two more skills: Perception will help you avoid ganks and Intimidation will help you extract information.

LEVEL 13 - ROGUE 7

7th level Rogues get Evasion. If you’re forced to make a Dexterity save you can make some pro plays to dodge, taking no damage on a successful save and half damage on a failed save.

Your Sneak Attack also increases to 4d6, so you can jump onto them after dodging their skill shot.

LEVEL 14 - ROGUE 8

8th level Rogues get another Ability Score Improvement: since your Dexterity is maxed let’s invest in that Intelligence... sorta. The Observant feat will let you increase your Intelligence by 1 along with granting a +5 bonus to passive Perception and Investigation so you can watch those wards, and the ability to read lips! Definitely helpful for an assassin.

(Artwork by Katie “TeaTime” De Sousa. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 15 - ROGUE 9

Hey how about we get your actual abilities at total level 15? Finally with level 9 in Soul KInife you get Soul Blades for two new abilities that use your Psionic Energy die. Homing Strikes will let you add your Psionic Energy die to an attack roll if you miss, and Psychic Teleportation will let you throw out a knife and teleport to it!

Something something read how the ability works yourself because these are guides on how to make a character and I won’t tell you what every class in Tasha’s does. Oh your Sneak Attack also increases to 5d6 now.

LEVEL 16 - WIZARD 7

7th level Wizards get 4th level spells like Phantasmal Killer to make your own jungler (one who’ll actually gank!), and Dimension Door to Teleport into lane. Or out!

LEVEL 17 - WIZARD 8

Level 8? How about an ASI? You may notice that we have two uneven ability scores: increase both your Intelligence and Charisma by 1.

You can also learn more spells but there honestly isn’t much I want from fourth level so hop back to level 3 for Sending. But you can also take Greater Invisibility for some Duskblade resets. Look I just really need a 5th level spell but it’s hard to justify magic on a champion who throws knives and nothing else.

LEVEL 18 - WIZARD 9

Time to finally get the last ability we’re missing: Death Lotus. Or more precisely Steel Wind Strike to hit everyone with your daggers and then maybe Shunpo to them after the fact. Speaking of Shunpo for seemingly unlimited jumps take Far Step, allowing you to be everywhere at once. Just know that you’ll only have one 5th level slot.

(Artwork by Esben Lash Rasmussen. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 19 - ROGUE 10

Picking up our last two levels in Rogue: level 10 means another ASI. Capped off Intelligence woo!

LEVEL 20 - ROGUE 11

11th level Rogues get Reliable Talent, meaning that you can’t roll below a 10 on any skill you’re proficient in. As a capstone skill let’s check what the minimum roll you can get on your skills is:

27 on Acrobatics and Stealth

24 on Intimidation

23 on Perception

21 on History

18 on Performance (Bladesinger lul)

15 on Athletics

And to top it off your Psionic Energy die increases to a d10, along with your Sneak Attack capping off at 6d6!

FINAL BUILD

PROS

They fear my weapons? I am the weapon - Regardless of your choice of tools you are extremely deadly. On one hand 6d6 sneak attack daggers you can apply 3d8 Booming Blade damage to, and on the other hand plenty of potent spells like Haste and Spirit Shroud.

If you run, you won't see me stab you! - You are also incredibly mobile with Misty Step, Far Step, Psychic Teleportation, Bladesong, and just general Cunning Actions. Not to mention that Bladesong gives a big boost to AC which combines well with Uncanny Dodge and Evasion.

A victory is sweetest when it leads to another - Rogues are meant to be skilled professionals and you are certainly that. The skills you are proficient in can be boosted by psionics. Oh and 28 Passive Perception thanks to Observant is just a little bit nutty.

CONS

Ready for trouble? - While you have many a skill you have many more that are lacking. You can put on a mean face sure, but for an important check like Arcana your psionic potential won’t save you.

Better dead than dull - Your spell slots are limited, and quite notably you only have one 5th level slot for Death Lotus IE Steel Wind Strike. While magic can supplement you nicely remember to ration yourself appropriately.

Come on, live a little... while you can! - You know what class doesn’t have a lot of health? Wizards, and half your levels are in Wizard. With a 10 in CON and most of your hit die being d6s your enemies won’t even need to hit you to Power Word Kill you.

But as an assassin you prove why your house is the best in the business. Talk is cheap and you’re always prepared: go in with knives at the ready, take out your target and anyone in their way before slipping out unscathed. You can always reset after a rest; just be sure to remember your cooldowns.

(Artwork by West Studios. Made for Riot Games.)

[konohagakureship]

Hidan and Kakuzu d&d au! Two more members of the Akatsuki Fellowship!! They are travelling around Khorvaire, in the world of Eberron!

au! Akatsuki D&D

Headcanons:

All the info related to places and clans is from the canonic lore of Eberron, or from interpretations that I’ve found here and there, and also a bit of my own homebrew lore. I’m gathering all the info and sources in my WorldAnvil page so you can check it out if you want :)

And this is the map with notes so you can pin all the locations.

This time I chose to put only the info relevant to the characters to make the post shorter. But still, this will be a LONG post so be prepared xD

Founding of the Akatsuki Fellowship

All the members of the party met in Sharn, the biggest city of the continent of Khorvaire. They were there for different reasons but ended up travelling together across the world.

Hidan the bloody warlock

Hidan was born in the warrior nation of Karrnath in the city of Atur, where the living and dead coexist in a daily basis.

His parents were members of the Blood of Vol cult, and actively participated in the life of the Crimson Monastery, the largest worship site dedicated to Vol in the entire continent. 

From a young age, his parents instructed him in the faith of the Divinity Within and encouraged him to follow their path and become a Seeker of the Blood of Vol.

The Blood of Vol is a religion centered on the belief of Divinity Within, which means that they do not revere any deity but the blood that courses through their own veins. The followers of the Blood of Vol are called Seekers, and many of them are necromancers employed by the government of Karrnath to control their undead soldiers. 

Seekers believe that death is a curse prevent mortals from achieving divinity, so by breaking the curse of mortality, humanity will be able to live a plenty existence. Necromancy is an attempt to fight the curse of mortality and prevent the loss of the knowledge and skills obtained by past generations. 

Contrary to the popular belief, Seekers cherish life and do not want to become undead. Those who become undead are considered to be martyrs who have given up their own chance at divinity to help others, since they will become tools for the living.

The Blood of Vol cult is ruled from Atur by The Crimson Covenant.

At the age of twelve, Hidan showed signs of possessing magical abilities, which catched the interest of the Cult and welcomed him into the Crimson Monastery to train his powers in favor of their religion and ulterior plans.

Hidan had always been an avid follower of his faith, but soon after joining the Monastery he started to interpret it in his own terms.

His warlock status made him believe that his blood carried the divine will, and that his mission was to actively fight for the Divinity Within by converting all the misguided mortals to The Blood of Vol, or sending them to their deceiving gods to see for themselves how misguided they were. 

The years passed and Hidan only grew more powerful and reckless, learning and crafting unique invocations to unleash his magic at its fullest potential.

His ever growing power mixed with his free interpretation of the beliefs of The Blood of Vol, marked him as an individual too independent and powerful to escalate in the ranks of the Cult.

In an attempt to channel his energy and give him a purpose, The Covenant prompted him to join the Order of the Emerald Claw, the paramilitary arm of the Blood of Vol, and sent him to Rekkenmark.

The Order of the Emerald Claw is an outlawed organization of Karrn patriots and Blood of Vol worshippers spread throughout Khorvaire. They continue to operate in a semi-terrorist fashion to this day, proclaiming their desire to see Karrnath once again rise to power.

Their connection to the Cult is only known by highest ranking members of the Order.

Hidan was sent to Rekkenmark, in the border with Thrane. His cell had the undercover mission to hunt down any paladin of the Church of the Silver Flame that entered Karrnath with the intention of killing Vol’s vampires and undeads.

The Blood of Vol is a forbidden religion in some regions of the continent due to the evil connotations associated with their practices, and many groups such as the Church of the Silver Flame actively works to destroy them.

His days as an Emerald Claw Knight were short, though.

At the beginning, Hidan thought that the Order was his rightful place, that surrounded by powerful patriots he will be able to bring the divine will to all the mortals and spread his faith to the edge of the world.

However, he soon started to feel disenchanted with how the Order handled their business and how little they cared about his divine will. He realised that like in the Monastery, the Order also lacked of determination, and so he began to make their creed his and reform it by his own standards.

The time passed and Hidan grew more reckless and discarded his superior’s orders more frequently, which caused friction within his cell. 

By recommendation of The Covenant, when the situation became unsustainable, The Emerald Claw “prompted” him to take his own path and fight for the Order by himself in his own terms, far away from Rekkenmark.

Instead of going back to Atur, Hidan decided to travel the world, free from any restraints, finding misguided mortals to convert to the Blood of Vol and killing all those who didn’t want to achieve immortality.

Unsurprisingly for everyone but himself, his homicidal activities granted him the status of “kill in sight” in many cities, and soon the bounty for his head was high enough to buy a villa in the upper levels of Sharn.

So Hidan, a powerful warlock and Seeker, spent the following years running away from the law and inquisitors of every city he stepped on. He never bothered to hide his presence anyway...

After a near death experience with a Flame paladin in Sigilstar, he traveled to Sharn, where he knew he could hide from prying eyes and find refuge in one of the Order’s liars. 

However, The Emerald Claw rejected to host him as he attracted too much attention, forcing him to hide in the lowest levels of the city, where he was told that there was a unofficially Vol-friendly tavern run by elves.

Little did he know, that in the Callestan district lived one of the most renowned bounty hunters of Sharn, who was currently drinking a pint in the same tavern he choose to spend the night in.

Kakuzu the bounty hunter

Kakuzu was born in the port city of Zarash’ak, in The Shaodw Marshes.

His father was a human from House Vadalis (beast tamers), while his mother was a human with a quarter of orc blood from House Tharashk with the Mark of Finding (bounty hunters).

He was raised within the Tharashk House and learned how to bounty hunt from a young age. Even though his training was focused on the ways of his mother’s House, he enjoyed spending time with his father and help him train and sell his imported beasts from the Eldeen Reaches.

Kakuzu spent his childhood proudly working for House Tharashk, dreaming of becoming a renowned bounty hunter and awakening a powerful Mark of Finding. However, his dreams would sunk when at the age of seventeen he finally manifested his dragonmark. 

It was an aberrant dragonmark.

The dragonmarks are passed through bloodlines and when two members of different dragonmarked families reproduce it often results in aberrant dragonmarks. Originally aberrant marked were seen as outcasts and outsiders, often shunned by the houses and eked out a pitiful existence. Now they unite under their own House, House Tarkanan.

Kakuzu tried to hide his new mark, constantly covering his body as much as he could and not getting intimately close to anyone for fear of being discovered and casted aside. His mood soured in a couple of months, and he ostracised himself from his closest friends and family.

But after a couple of years it had grown up so much that it almost took his entire back, and inevitably the House found out about his condition and expelled him from the clan.

Abandoned by his people, he traveled to Sharn in an attempt to join the Aberrant Dragonmarked House Tarkanan.

House Tarkanan is a house only formed by aberrant markeds, from any race and clan. They are usually bounty hunters, mercenaries and accountants.

When House Tarkanan first established itself in Sharn, the halfling Boromar Clan attempted to assimilate them, but the offer was turned down. This resulted in the Boromars attempting to destroy the House. When this proved too difficult a deal was struck. Since the Boromar clan doesn't traffic in assassinations, it was agreed that so long as House Tarkanan doesn't take contracts against the Boromars, they would be permitted to stay in Sharn without paying a fee.

Despite being shunned away by his family and now working as a bounty hunter for a bunch of criminals, Kakuzu found his place in Sharn. He also worked as an accountant for the clan from time to time, a nice changes of winds from his usual, dirtier, business.

He made himself a name in Sharn, and over the years was granted the title of Baron, as a senior assassin of the Clan. Kakuzu was well known in the city, especially in the districts of Lower Dura. 

He established his residence in the lawless district of Callestan mainly because the rent was cheaper, but also because his best informants also maraud those streets, inns and ateliers.

Kakuzu is a baron of House Tarkanan, and his main income comes from the clan’s dealings. However, he takes freelance work if the pay is good enough, and he usually doubles his fees if the contract is from his former House.

House Tharashk, despite expelling Kakuzu many years ago, is often interested in hiring his services in the big city, since bounty hunters that are not from House Tarkanan or the Boromar Clan are not allowed to make business freely even after paying a bountiful fee.

House Tharashk has deals and a close relationship with House Thuranni. The elven house team with them whenever they need to find artifacts or people, in exchange for influences and intel. They are currently working together with the Emerald Claw in Stormreach (Xen’dirk), seeking ancient artifacts for Lady Vol. 

House Thuranni is involved in many dubious affairs and unofficially allied with many organisations, such as the Blood of Vol and the Emerald Claw. The Thuranni fought alongside Karrnath during the War, and they have an important presence in Atur with their True Shapers academy.

These unofficial affairs turn every Thuranni establishment into a safehouse for those allies who need refuge or a meeting point.

So Kakuzu visits The Shadowkeeper tavern whenever the Tharashk need something from him, to catch up with his informants, or just to drink a large pint.

...though cashing in a good bounty for a dumb Seeker, is also interesting.

-------------

We have 6 out of 8 members of the party!! yeyyy!!! now i need to finish the other two ;)

[dnd5a]

Patch 2.7 - Spark of Creativity

This patch focuses on three major factors: A) the beginning of inclusion for content from the latest release, Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything, B) the inclusion of the Artificer class in a reworked form, and C) an official rules page that lists all official differences between the base game and ‘5.5e′ (that isn’t what I’m calling it, because that’s very pretentious. It doesn’t have a name yet, but for the sake of simplicity, 5.5 works ok)

Classes

NEW: ARTIFICER Now, originally, the artificer was omitted from my class list for two reasons: 1) the original Unearthed Arcana artificer was incredibly poorly designed and ill-fit for purpose, and 2) it was already far too similar to the existing runeshaper, whose flavour I liked a lot more.

After the new version was released, I still wasn’t convinced, but the flavour intrigued me more, so I experimented with implementation. This new version is legal from hereon in, and has a few alterations from the base class in Tasha’s and Eberron.

Individuals playing the Artificer Runeshaper League may switch if they choose.

Infuse items with magical powers, craft and attune to magical items far more efficiently, and gain access to a unique spell list unlike any other class.

Artificer includes the following archetypes:

Armourer: Build a mech/ironman suit and punch people

Artillerist: Build magical turrets in all sorts of forms

Battle Smith: Artificer paladins that heal allies and beat up enemies

Botanist: Summon shrub friends and deal poison damage in a way that actually works

Mechanic: Build a magical vehicle to ride around on

Roboticist: Build robotic companions to help you in battle

Transmortalist: Improve your own body with technological upgrades

BARBARIAN

Rework - Subclass: Path of the Wild Soul Adjusted according to changes made in Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything

6th level feature now has a secondary ability that grants bonuses to rolls for 10 minutes. The whole feature has limited uses, and the spell slot recovery can only be gained by a creature once per long rest.

Alteration: Brutal Critical Now specifically causes the bleeding condition (see below)

DRUID

Buff - Subclass: Circle of Stars Adjusted according to changes made in Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything

Star Map now grants the guidance cantrip as well as guiding bolt a set number of times per day. Bonuses granted to Archer and Chalice at 10th level increased to 2d8.

New - Subclass: Circle of the Wildfire Added as a part of Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything

All about destruction and rebirth, circle of the wildfire allows you to summon a Wildfire Spirit, as well as gain bonuses to your damage and healing.

INQUISITOR Buffs introduced in version 3 of the inquisitor in Patch 2.5 were a strong step towards making the class a more viable pick, as well as making it much more unique mechanically. However, a lot of the subclasses still didn’t hit the mark, with most being quite underpowered (or in the case of Shadow, horribly overpowered). These changes seek to address that.

Fix - Conversion Allies can no longer take aggressive action against creatures charmed by the second active effect of Silver Tongue without breaking the charm

Rework - Flagellant Flagellants now pay a blood price to use their abilities, reducing current health, instead of max health. Most features are similar, if not the same, but scale more clearly. Flagellant now gets a lot more benefits for being below half health, similar to their inspiration the titular class from Darkest Dungeon

Nerf - Judicator Soul Strike scaled waaaaay too hard, so the ability to put more than one soul into the ability has been removed. 10th and 14th level abilities swapped.

Rework - Pursuer Holy Scourge now starts as a d6, increasing to a d8 at 10th level, and a d10 at 18th and Hunter’s Velocity grants movement towards hostile creatures as a bonus action. 

Rework - Shadow New 1st level ability, Shadowed Blade, combines Sudden Judgement and Shadow Strike into one more balanced ability that can only trigger once per turn. New 6th level ability, Deceiving Darkness, grants benefits to taking the Hide action as an action. Ambidexterity now grants further bonuses to your invisibility

Buff - Strength Fervent Devotion refunds devotion when expending it would’ve been a waste (the attack would’ve hit anyway). Eternal Flame has been reworked into causing damage over time.

ROGUE Alteration: Strike Technique - Serrated Strike Now specifically causes the bleeding condition (see below)

New: Roguish Archetype - Vigilante Mark enemies for your allies and have a secret identity

VIGILANTE Having proven itself as a truly awful class with functionally no redeeming qualities, vigilante has been unceremoniously booted from the game, and integrated more effectively as a rogue subclass. Good riddance.

RUNESHAPER Removed: League of Artificers For obvious reasons. See artificer for more details

SPELLS

New - Blade of Disaster Omega-Spiritual Weapon

Buff -  Bleed Now causes the bleeding condition (see below), and deals more damage overall. Is a bonus action to cast, and is not concentration.

New - Dream of the Blue Veil Travel to another material plane.

Buff - Indalamar’s Bladestorm Now causes the bleeding condition (see below) and deals more damage overall.

Buff - Indalamar’s Piercing Blades Now causes the bleeding condition (see below) and deals more damage overall.

Buff - Intellect Fortress Now scales with targets

Nerf - Spirit Shroud Damage now scales once every other level

New - Sword Burst Spinny sword boys

New - Tasha’s Mind Whip Smack their mind and slow ‘em

New - Tasha’s Otherworldly Guise Become a spooky celestial or fiend

FEATS

New - Chef Ratatouille, minus the rat

New - Fighting Initiate Gain a fighting style

New - Tandem Tactician HELP GOOD!

New - Weapon Type Feats Three new feats, each for bludgeoning, piercing and slashing weapons. Called Crusher, Piercer and Slasher, these feats give bonuses to an associated stat, as well as granting a once per turn attack effect, as well as a bonus to critical hits with that damaging weapon

RULES

I use a lot of homebrewed rules, and it’s about time I documented them all. There is now a sizable rules page that details a variety of altered and ratified house-rulings, including some of the following: 

New: Bleeding Now an official condition with its own formatting and rules text. Features and spells have been updated to accommodate this change.

Rework: Falling Fall damage is now based on your size. Smaller creatures roll smaller and less dice than larger creatures when falling from great heights.

Rework: Injuries Injuries have been reworked and simplified heavily. They may undergo further balance tweaks, but this new version is likely to stick.

Buff - Mounted Combat Now has new rules text that allows for mounts to act more independently from their riders

Reversion: Medicine & Nature Have now been reverted to their original associated ability scores, Wisdom and Intelligence, respectively. This change only affects characters that have yet to be played in new campaigns, as well as future planned campaigns. Pre-existing campaigns and characters are unaffected by this rules change.

New: Passive Hearing and Smell Creatures have a set range in which they can hear and smell things, anything outside of that area that is unseen is considered hidden automatically.

New: Tumbling and Overrunning Moving through hostile creature’s spaces now requires a check, unless that creature is notably smaller or larger than you.

[captainkingsley]

Also one day I really want to expand on my Eberron au for the m9 because I love the concept of blood hunters in Eberron not using blood to fuel their magic but pieces of their soul which just sounds like so much fun to explore with Molly

[creativerogues]

Homebrews I Love...

1. The Artificer Class

Yes, I know it's coming soon. Yes I know it's going to be Official, but right now it's still in UA, so technically it's still Unofficial…

For those that don't know, Artificers are Master Inventors, channelling arcane powers to craft wondrous magical items.

The Class is super fun to play with, and just having a Class made to craft Magical Items is pretty darn cool if you ask me.

And depending on how kind your DM is, you could even implement the Crafting Magic Items Sections from Books like Xanathar's Guide and have your Artificer be able to craft quite literally Legendary Magical Items.#

(Yes it might take a few tens of thousands of gold pieces and about a year or so to do it, but it's possible, right?)

Anyways, you can find the current version of the Artificer Class and it's Subclasses on D&D Beyond, you don't need to purchase it right now, but I hope people take a look at the Eberron Setting Book whenever that comes out...

2. The Blood Hunter Class

Does this Class even need an introduction? You guys know Matt Mercer right?

Well, I guess if you don't know, I should tell you.

Matt Mercer is the Dungeon Master for the ridiculously popular D&D Show Critical Role, and has been DMing for way longer than that.

So of course when he creates his own Class, people are gonna gobble it up.

The Bloodhunter is "A fanatical slayer that embraces dark knowledge to destroy evil".

They use their own Blood to fuel their Magics, turning into ghosts, werewolves and creating flaming swords and weapons that spark lightning using just their blood.

I can't describe to you how cool this Class is. You can be a freaking werewolves, or a ghost!

Anyways, you can find the current version of the Bloodhunter Class and its Subclasses on D&D Beyond and on the DMs Guild, where right now (at the time of writing), the Price is "Pay What You Want", so you don't have to go broke buying the Class, but it also lets you throw a bit of cash at everyone's favourite Dungeon Master...

3. The Illrigger Class

Do you wanna praise Asmodeus while charging into the Blood War with a thousands Devils under your command!?

Well the Illrigger Class is for you!

Illriggers, also called Hell Knights (which is the coolest name for a Class!) are knights that work under Archdevils and even Asmodeus himself, using the powers they're gifted to slay foes both good and evil.

The Class was created by Matt Colville from MCDM. I know I've already sung his praises before, and I'll do it again here!

The Class has so many cool features. From being able to cast Illrigger-Specific Spells to the Illrigger's own '¾ Casting' that gives them more Spells than the average walking Paladin, to features that let you turn into a living beast of shadow, to a hell-mage commanding the Magics of Asmodeus, to a literal Devil Knight, as in actually turning into a giant freaking devil…

And if you need any more swaying into taking a look at the Class, I'd suggest watching 'The Chain of Acheron', a D&D Show on both Twitch and YouTube where one of the Players is currently playing Judge, a Tiefling Illrigger of Asmodeus.

You can find the Illrigger Class on the MCDM Productions Website, and there's even a Revised Version of the Illrigger that's currently under Playtesting but soon to be released.

Oh, and back MCDM's New Kickstarter, Kingdoms and Warfare, it's cool, thought I'd mention it.

4. The Pugilist Class

Ever wanted to be a street fighter but thought Monk was a little too spiritual for you, and the Fighter was too bland?

Well the Pugilist is a Class that's got so much swagger behind it, they made it their main feature just so they could punch you in the face with it!

"With nothing but their wits, will, and fists, pugilists lay it all on the table every time they’re in for a scrap."

They're boxers, street fighters, warriors of the pits and lovers of the tavern brawl.

If you want a class that can knock out the competition, play a Pugilist can become a Luchadore, or just someone who can literally knock out the competition…

The Pugilist Class was made by Benjamin Huffman and just got a big update, with a whole new subclass and now with a bunch of magic items too!

You can find it on the DMs Guild, and Emmet Byrne even created a character sheet specifically for use with the Pugilist class, so I guess there's no reason not to!

5. The ‘Monster Tamer’ Subclass for the Ranger

Another brainchild of Matt Colville and MCDM Productions, the Monster Tamer is a Subclass for the Ranger that's an improved version of the Beastmaster Ranger without all the noodles that can bust a Player's brain included.

The Monster Tamer let's you gain a Monster for a Pet!

And if you need any examples, simply look to The Chain of Acheron again, because Tom (not Tom) plays Copper, the Goblin Ranger and Monster Tamer with his Monster Companion, Bigcat, the Displacer Beast.

And while some of you might be saying "Woah woah woah, a Displacer Beast?", trust me when I say it's not overpowered.

Yes, it's had some tweaking in game and I personally think it's a cool subclass simply from the idea, but if you need anymore persuading at all, think about this: You could have a Purple Worm as a Pet if you can roll high enough…

Yep, if you roll high enough you could ride around on the back of a Purple Worm…

Anyways, you can find the Monster Tamer Subclass on the MCDM Productions Website, and Matt himself has said he's working on a revision with even more stuff included!

Also, reminder, go back the Kingdoms and Warfare Kickstarter if you're interested.

6. The ‘Cartographer’ Subclass for the Ranger

Created by Hannah Rose and Deven Rue (for those that might remember, Deven Rue was the cartographer of official Critical Role Dwendalian Empire map), the Cartographer is yet another Subclass for the Ranger, and this one's all about making maps of the lands they travel through.

Cartographers are great because not only can they make really fancy maps, their Subclass Features are all based around it.

They never get lost so long as they're somewhere that's on their Magical Map, they can see a specific point on the Map as if they were standing there, and at higher levels they can just BAMF! themselves and the rest of the Party to anywhere on their very fancy well drawn map, working like a badass version of teleportation.

You can find the Cartographer Subclass for the Ranger on the DMs Guild and I highly suggest you take a look at it!

[beethereal-knight]

I absolutely love how you've just kinda casually made an accidental DnD setting that is leaps and bounds ahead of anything I've seen in print since Eberron dropped like a ton of bricks. What weapons and/or tools would an aspiring dragon exterminator need to buy before they're taken seriously?

If you’re new to dragon hunting, you’ll be recommended weapons like catch poles, spears, clubs, really big, dense bags, nets, non-injuring traps, and a lot of friends who are up to earn a buck. You’ll also need dense, durable armor thick enough to stand getting mauled a little, disinfectant like rubbing alcohol,

For someone who’s just starting out, it’s pretty expensive, but it’s worth it if you really want to pursue dragon hunting as a career. 

The dragon hunting business is notorious for being heavily regulated and strict on what you can and can’t do with dragons. You can only get so far without a license before you’re forced by the city council to get officially registered as a dragon hunter.

A big thing for dragon hunters is the quality of their kill- really cut-up and bloody dragons fetch a much lower reward than a dragon that only has a single puncture wound in its skull. And even when you turn in a dragon, you have to sign contracts and disclose the location and methods of killing it before an inspection takes place to assess possible blood contamination in the soil/plants/whatever. You can speed up the process if you just bag restrained dragon and kill it near a turn-in spot, but you’ll get cited for public endangerment if it’s too close to a village/city. 

Trust me, nobody likes doing the paperwork and dealing with all the taxes and fines, but once all the inspections and interviews are over with, the payday is really worth it.